


unnecessary

by snottygrrl



Series: bday lucky 13 meme fills [10]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ariadne is so done, Clueless Arthur, Eames is through waiting, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: In which Eames assumes Arthur knows, Arthur is obliviously admiring Eames's ass, and Ariadne is tired of watching the train wreck.





	unnecessary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RurouniHime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/gifts).



> nearly six and a half years ago you asked for _Arthur/Eames, please! Soulbonding!_ and now here it is. hope it suffices, bb ♥ ♥ ♥

It takes Arthur an embarrassingly long time to realize that he and Eames have bondmate potential. And actually, he doesn’t so much realize it, as have it shouted at him. 

To be fair, everyone knows the first sign of a prospective mate is appearing in one another’s dreams, and their jobs make that tell a little unreliable. On top of that, Arthur isn’t looking for a soulbond. Ever. 

Arthur doesn’t personally know any mated pair that seems happy, despite all the hype. His parents certainly hadn’t been and thinking about what’d happened with Mal and Dom still makes him shudder. 

Unencumbered by any of that, Arthur’s just pondering whether this counts as the fourth or fifth job he’s worked in a row with Eames—does the Grant-Buchanan clusterfuck count as one or two?—while he admires the tailored fit of Eames’s trousers. 

When Eames leans over the table to point out something to the new architect, Arthur completely loses his train of thought as the fabric molds around Eames’s delectable ass. All Arthur seems capable of at that moment is imagining what he could be doing to said ass if no one else was in the room.

He’s disappointed when Eames abruptly stops talking and straightens up, but he’s more than a little shocked when Eames spins around and says, “Seriously, Arthur? I knew you could be a prick, but I didn’t think you’d be deliberately cruel.” His eyes are practically glacial. “Excuse me, James, I think I need some air.” The new architect—James—just nods at him with wide eyes, as Eames turns his back on Arthur and leaves the building.

It isn’t his obvious anger that really bothers Arthur so much as the pain he can sense underneath it. For some inexplicable reason _that’s_ what’s making it a bit hard to breath. He’s still staring after Eames, completely at a loss, when Ariadne rounds on him. “Christ, Arthur!”

“What did I do?” He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he should. He always knows, damn it. It’s his job to know and he’s the best.

“What did….” Ariadne gapes. “Oh my god, you actually have no idea, do you? Yusof said you were oblivious, but I didn’t think that was possible. I mean, come on, even Cobb isn’t this obtuse.”

“Ariadne,” Arthur grits out.

“How can you not know? Even James has picked up on it—“ at this James nods “—and Eames obviously knows, so how can you not?”

Frustrated beyond belief, Arthur finally yells, “How can I not know _what_?”

“That you have an unconsummated, fledging soulbond with Eames!” Ariadne shouts right back.

Arthur freezes. “I... Eames… We....” He looks helplessly at Ariadne. “What?”

“God, Arthur,” Ariadne says. She sounds exhausted and a little sad. “Just go talk to him.”

He finds Eames in the back alley muttering to himself as he paces. Arthur knows he needs to say something, but he has no idea what. He hasn’t had nearly enough time to process what Ariadne has told him, let alone come up with a coherent response. Yet he’d rather chop off his left nut before causing Eames any further pain.

There’s an inelegant snort from the end of the alley. “Please don’t,” Eames says. “I’m rather fond your bollocks.” At Arthur’s sharp gasp, he adds, “Breathe, Arthur. Nothing has to happen.”

Sitting down heavily on the back stoop, Arthur rests his head in his hands. “Eames, I didn’t—“

“Yeah, just sussed that out. Must admit, am pretty chuffed I was around when everyone else knew something that you didn’t. A notable occurrence.”

There’s a small smile on Eames lips, but now that Arthur is consciously aware of their connection, he can feel sorrow rolling off him mixed in with something else—determination, perhaps. 

“You know this will fade if we stop living in each other’s pockets, darling. There are plenty of jobs out there. No need for us to ever work together again. Easy peasy.”

And that’s what Arthur wants, right? What he’s always told himself—no bondmate, no complications, no need to compromise, no risk of getting hurt. Except that if he has to spend the rest of his career trying to avoid working with the best forger in the business, he’s just added a ton of complications and compromises to his future. On top of that, the thought of never seeing Eames again is like a knife to the gut (which Arthur has actually experienced more than once during his glamorous time in dream sharing. It’s one of his least favorite ways to die).

He must have been silent for too long, because Eames says, “Right then, let’s just get this one over with and move on.” And Arthur can sense that Eames is doing what he can to dampen their developing bond. He goes to step around Arthur, careful to avoid touching him, and Arthur suddenly knows that if he lets Eames walk back inside, something precious will be irrevocably lost.

“Eames, wait,” he says, but then he grabs ahold of Eames’s wrist and the resulting cascade of feelings keeps him from being able to finish his sentence, or frankly, do much of anything else.

Arthur’s not sure how long he spends awash in both his and Eames’s emotions before he manages to drag himself to his feet in front of Eames. As certain as Arthur’s always been about how unnecessary a soulbond is, how dangerous and overly romanticized they are, he’s still surprised to discover that he’s essentially been right all along, but not at all in the way he thought. 

Arthur finally understands with absolute clarity that a soulbond is not the issue. Whether they complete the bond or not, Arthur will still be willing to take a bullet for Eames, still imagine what he could do to that ass, still have a piece of his heart that only belongs to Eames. The soulbond itself won’t change that, nor will the lack of one. 

“I don’t want to work on different jobs, Eames—“

“Arthur, if we—“

“I don’t want this to fade.” Moving closer, Arthur loops his arms around Eames’s neck.

“Are you absolutely sure, love? You realize this is a forever decision, right?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Eames,” Arthur says.

And Eames does.


End file.
